


Save Me A Dance

by Altman



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Aesling has two hands, Ballroom Dancing, F/F, F/M, Markus is either the world's best wingman or the worst, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 03:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13402026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altman/pseuds/Altman
Summary: This job wasn't anything like their usual work; it would require tact, discipline, and subtlety...What could possibly go wrong?Meanwhile Thog pines over Ashe but won't admit he's actually pining. Ballroom dancing ensues.





	Save Me A Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SparklesWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklesWrites/gifts).



> This is a belated birthday gift for my friend Stevie! Hope you enjoy!

As their jobs went, this was a somewhat unusual one. A group with a reputation of sowing chaos, destruction, and assorted mischief wherever they went wouldn’t have been Thog's _first_ choice to ensure that some up-and-coming noble’s autumn ball went off without a hitch, but, hey, the pay had been exorbitant and sorely needed, so who was he to judge?

Not that he wasn’t going to judge, of course; he’d simply keep it to himself.

Aside from the fact that Inien seemed determined to surreptitiously cram as many plates as possible into her purse (he still didn’t know if it was a bag of holding or not, and asking her to stop was pretty far down on his list of ‘Things I want to do’), Kyr’s clothes were audibly ticking, and Markus would probably cause at least one diplomatic incident before the night was out, things had been going well, which really should have been his first warning.

He really shouldn’t have been disappointed when their employer, Lord Whatshisname – Farbanks, or something – took a fancy to Ashe, and insisted she accompany him for the evening.

It had been an innocent enough request, after all Ashe was quite striking, especially dressed to the nines, but it quickly became apparent that Farbanks simply wanted to show her off like some kind of trinket.

Even now, she looked so damn uncomfortable as he practically dragged her around the dance floor.

Fighting to keep his expression at least somewhat neutral, Thog grit his teeth, an all-too-familiar ache making its home in his chest. But thinking about that, defining it, scared him. Distance was easier.

There was a rustle of satin as someone arrived at his side and placed a glass of wine into his hand.

“She looks pretty dissatisfied with her dance partner, wouldn’t you say?” Markus asked, sympathetically making the understatement of the night.

“Yeah.” Thog agreed, not trusting himself to speak. Alcohol helped with that, right?

Suddenly staring at the bottom of a glass he didn’t remember finishing, Thog decided that, no, it didn’t.

Markus elbowed him in the ribs, grinning like, well, Markus, “Shouldn’t you do something about that, then? Protect your employees and all that jazz?”

“I- What?”

With a weary sigh, Markus gave him a pat on the elbow, his smiling saying, ‘It’s ok, I understand, don’t worry’.

But what exactly he understood, Thog sure as hell didn’t know.

Before he could ask for some much-needed explanation, Farbanks laughed as Ashe glared at him, stubbornly dragging her feet despite the music’s increasing tempo. Clearly, he was enjoying her discomfort.

“Markus, grab Kyr and Inien, get them to cause a scene,” Thog snapped, readjusting the lapel of his jacket, “something noticeable.”

Markus smirked and waggled his eyebrows with enough grace to put any dancer on the ballroom floor to shame, “You got it, boss-man. Can I ask why?”

Squaring his shoulders, Thog schooled his features into his most pleasant ‘how-can-I-help-you-and-by-that-I-mean-please-fuck-off’ expression, “I’m about to do something really impolite, and I’d rather have people pay as little attention to it as possible.”

It really was an awful decision, one that went against every social convention Karen and Moren had drilled into him, but as soon as those were weighed against making sure his employees – no, his _friends_ were safe? The scales tipped over so fast, it was almost funny.

Especially because it was _her_.

Making his way through the throng of other dancers on the floor seemed to take forever; just his luck that his clear path to the host would be obstructed as soon as he wanted to take it.

In reality, it was barely five minutes later that he found himself in front of the count and, more importantly, Ashe.

“Sorry, mind if I cut in.” Thog said, because it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already taking Ashe’s hand and pulling her away.

Farbanks glowered, opening his mouth to make what would no doubt be an indignant retort; they never got to hear it, thanks to the appearance of a rather frantic guard, “Milord, there’s a matter that requires your urgent attention… Two guests are, uh, they’re…”

“What is it? Spit it out!” Farbanks turned away from his newly liberated former dance partner, focusing his anger on the unfortunate messenger, “Surely you fools can handle it.”

“Please, milord, they’re, um, being quite affectionate. In the trophy room. If we try to, er, separate them by force, there’s no telling what could be damaged in a struggle.”

“Then talk to them!”

“We tried, but we were- One of them just flipped us off. Quite emphatically.”

Thog nearly choked, unsure of whether to laugh or groan, while Ashe looked at him confused.

“I’ll explain later, for now just focus on getting away.” He whispered, beginning to move to the music. Ashe seemed unsure, her steps off tempo, and something clicked in his head.

Lifting his hand from her waist to her shoulder, he stopped trying to tell her where to go, “Right, sorry, you lead.”

She smiled, nodding happily, taking control of the dance, “Thanks.”

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about more than which of them lead, at which point he shook his head, “You’d have gotten yourself out of there somehow. I just expedited the process a bit.”

Her eyes lit up as she laughed, and Thog wondered if they had always been that golden.

“Yeah, well, I still appreciate your expedition.” She rolled her eyes, grinning.

“Expediting,” the correction was out of his mouth before he could stop it, his inner editor smugly satisfied, while he just cringed

Ashe just smirked, raising an eyebrow as she held back a laugh, biting her lip, “Whatever.”

He felt his cheeks warm as the realization hit him, “You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Obviously. You’re awfully cute when you’re flustered, after all.”

Really, was it any wonder he stumbled?

She caught him, of course, barely able to contain her laughter. It had been accidental, but she turned it into a fairly solid dip, her face hovering over his own.

“You really shouldn’t say things like that,” He frowned, wishing he could hide his blush better, “after all, you and Firi…”

She snorted, shaking her head, “I’ve talked to her about it. A lot, actually. I was so afraid that I was broken, because I have feelings for you both, but…”

“It’s not a bad thing. Liking you doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

He blinked, throat dry, “Oh. That’s… that’s good, then.”

A playful grin crept across her face, “Really? Why is that good?”

“Because. Because I like you too.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but Firi isn’t into guys.”

“I meant ‘I like you as well’, Ashe.” He said, letting out an annoyed huff.

She hummed in acknowledgement, lowering her face even closer to his, “I know, but like I said, you’re cute when you get all flustered.”

He would have protested more, but it turns out that’s surprisingly hard to do when you’re being kissed, especially if you’re kissing the other person back.


End file.
